


Touch Me I'm Sick

by lilaccoffee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, Fluff, I'm Sorry, M/M, Sick Fic, Sick Harry, This is kinda bad, harry is louis' baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1300759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaccoffee/pseuds/lilaccoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry feels lousy. He's sick, and there's no other way to put it. But Louis always knows how to make him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch Me I'm Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Mudhoney's Touch Me I'm Sick.
> 
> This isn't my best work, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Follow me on Wattpad || www.wattpad.com/vans_and_boots  
> And on twitter. (vans_and_boots)

They’re coming off stage, pumped on the after-shock of the concert. All except Harry, who just wants to crawl into bed and never come out. He was feeling rather sick this morning, but he knew he couldn’t take a sick day. Not today. 

He braces himself on the cool wall of his dressing room, resting his cheek there to cool down his flaming skin. Harry’s stomach is churning. He can hear Louis outside his door, calling for him and wondering where he is, but he can’t do anything about it as he rushes to the bathroom and proceeds to empty his stomach into the toilet. 

“Harry? You in there, babe?” Louis raps on Harry’s dressing room door. He’s worried about him, because Harry was a bit off tonight. 

The sound of Harry getting sick brings Louis to his senses. He opens the door, hurrying to get to the bathroom. 

Louis knees beside Harry on the floor without a word. He strokes Harry’s hair away from his face and rubs a hand over Harry’s back. Harry makes a whimpering noise, tears sliding down his cheeks as he finally stops throwing up. He leans against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I hate being sick,” he softly cries. “I hate it, I hate it.”

“Shh,” Louis hushes him, his voice soft. He cleans Harry’s face with a wad of toilet paper, kissing the side of his head. “I’m here, love, you’re okay.”

Louis throws the wad in the toilet, flushing the contents down and closing the lid. He lifts Harry, sitting him on the lid. Louis gets Harry’s toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste on it and handing it to Harry. He pitifully cleans his teeth and spits into the sink. 

Louis presses his palm against Harry’s forehead. “You’re burning up, Haz.”

Harry whines, slumping against Louis. He’s tired and he wants to go back to the hotel and be sick comfortably. 

“Come on, babe, up you get.” Louis helps Harry onto unsteady feet, rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s arm. 

There’s a rap on the bathroom door before Zayn comes in. “We’ve got to go Lou-Harry? Shit, Haz, you look awful.”

Harry moans weakly in response. Suddenly, he goes tense, wriggling out of Louis’ grip and sinking to his knees, retching into the toilet bowl. Louis drops beside Harry, rubbing a hand over his back and stroking his hair away from his forehead. 

Zayn grimaces. “I’ll go tell Paul he’s sick.”

“Tell the boys for me?” Louis asks. 

“Course.” Zayn looks rather pale as he slips from the room. 

“I hate this,” Harry chokes. He heaves again, making tears spring to his eyes and slide down his cheeks.

“I know, baby, I know.” Louis scratches his nails against Harry’s back soothingly. 

When Harry stops retching, Louis cleans him up again and has him rinse his mouth out with water. Louis kisses his cheek and nose, both fever- hot, before wrapping him in his arms. 

At the bus, Paul helps Louis bring Harry inside. Louis holds Harry close to him as they sit on the couch. Harry's trying so hard not to lose it. 

“It’s okay,” Louis murmurs to him. “There’s a bag, it’s okay.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s embarrassing, Lou.”

Louis kisses his forehead, stroking his side and back and arms. “It happens to everyone, it’s fine.”

But he knows there isn’t any convincing Harry, because he’s never liked being sick in front of other people, or being sick in general. 

“Is he okay?” Liam mouths to Louis, because Liam knows Harry will be embarrassed even more if he says it aloud. 

Louis shakes his head, mouthing a ‘no’. Liam nods sympathetically, then turns his attention to Niall so Harry doesn’t catch on. 

“Almost there,” Paul says. “You okay, Harry?”

Harry goes to answer, but then he clamps a hand over his mouth and brings the bag to it, heaving. Louis rubs Harry’s back, dropping a kiss on his hair. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” Louis says. 

Zayn shudders, turning away. His stomach’s never been good with people who are throwing up. 

“Louis.” Harry’s shaking when he lowers the bag from his mouth. He plasters himself to Louis’ side, crying into his shirt. 

“You’re fine. You’re so fine, baby.” Louis kisses his temple, petting over his hair and back.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Haz?” Niall asks, and Louis wants to strangle him. Everyone knows to leave Harry alone and let Louis care for him when he’s sick. 

Harry presses his face against Louis chest, anchoring his hand in his shirt and sniffling. The bus comes to a stop. Zayn shoots off as soon as he can, making a beeline for the hotel. Liam wishes Harry well before he gets off with Niall. 

“You want me to help you get him in?” Paul asks. 

“I’m fine, Paul. Thank you, though,” Louis says. Harry’s fallen asleep against Harry’s shoulder. 

“Is it the flu?” Paul asks. 

“I don’t know,” Louis replies. “I’ll take him to a clinic if he’s still sick in a few days.”

“I’ll try to keep everyone out of your room,” Paul says. 

“Thanks.” Louis lifts Harry into his arms, carrying him off the bus.

As soon as Louis’ getting off, a person from management — he doesn’t care enough to know the guy’s name — stops him. “You can’t go in there with him at the same time.”

Louis swears under his breath. “Look, my boyfriend is sick. I’m carrying him up to the room and I don’t give a damn if you don’t like it,” he growls. He stomps into the hotel before he can be stopped again. 

Louis lays Harry on one of the beds in the room. It’s the one closest to the bathroom, just in case. Louis dumps their bags on the second bed, going over to the sink area and making Harry a cup of tea. 

He strokes his fingers over Harry’s cheek. “Come on, babe, get up for a second.”

Harry whines, sitting up reluctantly. He immediately clutches his head, feigning off the dizzy feeling. 

“I need to get some medicine in you,” Louis says, placing an Advil in Harry’s palm. “Take that and drink your tea while I make you some soup.”

“Lou, I really don’t want to eat anything.” Harry downs the medicine, wincing as it rubs his throat wrong. 

“I know you don’t, but you need to eat something,” Louis says.

“I can’t,” Harry moans. He sinks against the pillows, thumping his limbs down pitifully. 

Louis ignores him. He heats some water, dumping a package of soup into a mug and stirring it up before he brings it over to Harry. He brings it up to Harry’s lips, forcing him to take a few swallows. 

Harry bats at Louis’ hand. “Stop, Lou, I can’t eat anymore. Unless you want me to be sick on you, you’d better stop.”

“That’s disgusting.” Louis sets the soup and tea on the bed side table, kissing Harry’s cheek anyway. 

Harry snuggles the blankets over him. “Will you lay with me?”

“Course I will.” Louis wraps his arm around Harry’s chest and throws his leg over Harry’s hip, cuddling him close. 

“I feel like shit,” Harry says.

Louis trails kisses over Harry’s neck. “I can’t wait to catch what you get,” he says sarcastically. 

“I’ll make you feel as loved as you’re making me feel,” Harry promises him.

“Yeah?” Louis kisses his head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

Harry shivers right before his senses go into overdrive. He fumbles for the trashcan at the foot of the bed, getting sick into it. Louis props himself up and strokes over Harry’s back, whispering soothing words in his ear. 

And if he’s up every half-hour with a sick Harry, Louis doesn’t seem to care.


End file.
